Aftermath
by Sile.Authoress
Summary: WWII shattered the world. Now it's time to pick up the pieces and Germany and America must learn to live with the consequences of their actions./Rated M for content relating to the Final Solution, Nazism, the bomb, and curse words.
1. Chapter 1: Liberation

I in no way claim any rights or profits to Axis Powers Hetalia. Those belong to Hidekaz Himaruya, and justly so.

Warning: Note the Rating: This chapter contains descriptions of Nazi Death Camps.

* * *

"My God." He whispered as they stepped through the steel gates. He stared unashamedly, it was almost impossible not to. There were offices, a clinic, gas chambers, ovens, and row upon row of barracks. But the thing that was hardest not to stare at was the people coming out of the barracks; if they could still be called people. They looked like walking corpses. Everyone was thin and bony, sporting bruises, cuts, or burns. But the thing that was the most unnerving was the look in their eyes as they watched the soldiers; hungry, desperate, and wary. A caged animal's look.

One man was coughing, rough, throat-tearing coughs. He held out his canteen to the man who looked at it as if it might bite him. Then he grabbed it and began to drink, slowly at first, then faster and faster. When he finally lowered it and passed it back, Alfred could tell that it was less than half full. The man's coughing fit ceased and he smiled wanly, as if he had to remember how. Another man came forward and gestured at his canteen. He watched as the second man drank greedily.

"Men", he called "Pass your canteens around to these people, and share your rations too. O'Donell."

"Sir!"

"Radio back that we'll need extra rations and water for these prisoners, and medics and nurses too. Make sure they contact the Red Cross."

"Yes sir."

"Simons" he called and he walked through the prisoners. The medic appeared at his elbow.

"Sir."

"Let's set up in the clinic so you can start examining some of these people. Is there anything we should take into consideration besides food?"

"Yes. Be careful they don't eat it too fast or their going to puke it up."

"Alright, better get started." Simons hurried off.

Alfred directed his men to follow Simons and organize the prisoners into order to receive some food and medical attention. He watched as more and more prisoners emerged from the barracks and went to join the line to receive food. All were emancipated and worn but some were beginning to smile. He was about to join his men in distributing food when something caught his eye. He turned; emerging from one barrack was a white haired man, just as emancipated as the rest of them. He clung to the door way and looked around through squinted eyes. When he caught sight of Alfred, the closest to him, he started then staggered forwards.

"Wes…" he gasped. Then he tripped falling face first. Alfred ran to the man's side and knelt down.

"Easy old man." He said softly and helped the man to turn over and sit up. The man rubbed his face and mumbled in German.

"Möchten Sie etwas zu essen, wie?" Alfred said slowly. His German was good but not great. The man stopped rubbing his face and looked up, his red eyes blinking in surprise. Alfred felt a stab of recognition and a chill ran down his back.

"Wer sind Sie?" asked the man; who he realized was not so old, in appearance anyway.

"Mein Name ist Alfred F. Jones."

"Amerika?"

"Ja."

"Gilbert Beilschmidt, Königreich Preußen."

Alfred swallowed, " Wie fühlst du dich?"

Gilbert laughed a dry, wheezing laugh. "Ich fühle mich wie Scheiße. Aber ich möchte etwas zu essen, und Informationen." He tried to stand and Alfred helped him up. It was way too easy, even for a hero. The ex-nation leaned on him as they walked, or in Gilbert's case limped, to the clinic. Alfred saw Gilbert placed under the careful eye of Simons before he left to go radio England. As he left all he could think was _His brother, he'd do this to his own brother_.

* * *

Yes, I went there. This was inspired by "Confessions of a Nation: Prussia" by raecat. I kinda took her idea that Prussia came to represent the Holocaust and ran with it. More will come, like Hiroshima and Nagasaki guilt.  
Please review and let me know what you think.

1 German: "Would you like some food?"

2 German: "Who are you?"

3 German: "My name is Alfred F. Jones."

4 German: "Kingdom of Prussia

5 German: "How do you feel?"

6 German: "I feel like shit. But I would like some food, and information."


	2. Chapter 2: Recollection

I in no way claim any rights or profits to Axis Powers Hetalia. Those belong to Hidekaz Himaruya, and justly so.

Warning: Note the Rating: Contains discussion of the Holocaust, physical abuse, Nazi ravings, and swearing.

* * *

Gilbert stared at the ceiling. It was about one o' clock in the morning, but Gilbert was a light sleeper. A habit he had acquired after his years in the camps. At first he had slept heavily from exhaustion and lack of energy from hunger; but then he began sleeping lightly to keep people from stealing his shoes, his mattress or blankets. Not that he would mind sharing with them, often he had given away most of his food to others whose food had been stolen, he just didn't like thieves. Now in the quiet and privacy of his hospital room he lay awake listening to the night tick by.

In a way he was sorry that he could not sleep, sleep was restful and relaxing, but he was also resigned to the fact that he could not sleep long. In sleep you were more vulnerable; in sleep ghosts could haunt you. But being awake was not a foolproof defense either, especially at night, in the quiet.

* * *

_Gilbert sat down without invitation and leaned back in the chair, stretching his legs in front of him and crossing them at the ankle. He leaned his elbows on the armrests and clasped his hands together, sending a speculative look at the man standing across the desk from him._

"_Guten Morgan, former Kingdom of Prussia."_

"_Guten Morgan."_

"_I trust German Reich is well this morning?"_

"_Positively blooming."_

_The man tapped his fingers on the back of his chair. "Let us be honest with each other. Former Kingdom of Prussia, you don't like me much do you?"_

_Gilbert met his eyes and held them then he replied, "Well if we are to be honest let us be fair as well. You don't like me much either, do you Hitler?"_

_Hitler walked around the desk until he was in front of Gilbert, and leaned against it. "No, in fact nothing would give me greater pleasure than having your eyes gouged out."_

_Gilbert did not react except to uncross his legs. He had heard such things before. He continued to stare into the mad eyes of the man who held his brothers heart and mind. The man stared back the loathing plain on his face. He tapped his fingertips against one another; in the continued realm of honesty, one Hitler had probably not entered for years, Gilbert would have to be honest in saying that this man scared him. He was powerful, in many more ways than some of Gilbert's former kings had been. That frightened Gilbert for West because, technically, this was his country. But even though this lunatic was frightening Gilbert knew enough not to show his fear. For in the end, Hitler was just an annoying Austrian man and he, was the Kingdom of Prussia. Over his long years he had seen leaders come and go, both good and bad. Countries may disappear from the map but there is always an essence of that country remaining. Gilbert showed no fear because he knew both he and West had been here long before Hitler and they would be here long after Hitler had become a grease spot in the history books._

"_Is that so?" he said. His calm attitude seemed to anger Hitler._

"_Yes, but I will not indulge that particular pleasure, it's too, fleeting. Instead I have something else in mind for you."_

"_Oh really." He wanted to smile at how easily he was making Hitler lose his temper but restrained himself._

"_You don't seem to be taking this situation very seriously, Former Kingdom of Prussia."_

"_As the French would say 'Au contraire' Hitler." He'd known the minute he'd been ordered to visit this Austrian that he would be on very thin ice; that fact probably had something to do with his flippant attitude._

_Hitler's face turned burgundy and Gilbert waited as the man stood up and began to pace in front of him. When Hitler resumed talking his voice pulsed with undercurrents of angry fervor. "There are many undesirables in the German Reich, mingling with our Master Race. You being one of them, perhaps chief of them you could say. Instead of letting these excuses for human scum continue to taint our Master Race we are removing them and relocating them to areas where they can be watched and made to serve the Master Race._

_He smiled at Gilbert, "And tonight you will be joining them. You will board a train going east, it will take you to the camp of Auschwitz, where you will remain unless it is seen fit to move you somewhere else."_

_Gilbert sat up. "Does West know of this?"_

_Hitler laughed, like that was the funniest thing, "Of course. It was his idea in the first place."_

"_You sick Austrian __Scheißkerl__! West would never do that!"_

_Still smiling Hitler picked up his riding crop and smacked Gilbert across the face. "Foolish, useless Prussia, how little you know. This is for his own good." Then he called to the guards outside "Escort this gentleman home and see that he remains there until 4:00, we wouldn't want him to miss his train."_

_Gilbert didn't move. Hitler's smile widened, "You'd better go now Prussia, your bruder said you would do anything for Germany, why don't you prove it?"

* * *

_

He blinked dry eyes, even heavily bandaged and emaciated; he was too awesome to cry now. Not when he had buried that remorse long ago. He reached up and traced his neck, an old habit from when he wore his Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross. He missed its familiar weight; it was like missing his hand. Over the years he had never stopped wishing for it back, but at the same time he had never regretted taking it off and leaving it back in Nuremberg.

It was not something he would readily admit to anyone but, the Austrian's words about West had gotten to him. After the meeting, in the solitude of his room he had been looking at the portrait of Fritz and felt shame at what he had become, in West's eyes. He couldn't give a fuck about what Hitler thought. On that thought he had removed his Cross.

Now he was angry, angry that the Austrian had caused him to give that up. Angry, because he had ceased to be Prussia and chosen to become a victim. He had left Nuremburg as a victim and arrived at Auschwitz as a victim. But, ironically enough it was in the camps he had found his self-respect again, when he had seen all the people who had been scorned and rejected, like himself. So he had taken them all as his own, wholeheartedly, and borne their pain.

The clock ticked as he traced his throat. When he was well enough to leave he would find his Cross again. He would wear it again and feel proud that he was the Kingdom of Prussia.

* * *

Authoress Notes:  
I'm so sorry I had to do that to Gilbert. I actually wrote this after the main story as an omake but only just incorporated it into the story line itself. Is Gilbert's character consistent? Is the angst too much?

Thanks for reading. Please review.

German Reich is basically what Hitler calls Ludwig.

Hitler was Austrian, which is part of the reason that Gilbert wouldn't like him (in head canon anyway).

Auschwitz is the infamous concentration camp in what is now Western Poland.

1 German: Good Morning

2 French: On the contrary

3 German: Motherfucker


	3. Chapter 3: Deliberation

I in no way claim any rights or profits to Axis Powers Hetalia. Those belong to Hidekaz Himaruya, and justly so.

Warning: Note the Rating: Contains descriptions of Death camps

* * *

"We have no reason to trust you Germany." England said, as the other Allies watched, each face reflecting England's words. "You have violated the Treaty of Versailles and waged war on us, in addition to your other war crimes."

Germany frowned. "I understand that I am responsible for much of this but –" he took a deep breath "I ask you to be merciful on my people."

"Hitler is dead, that should be mercy enough." snapped France.

"Do not treat Germany the same way you did after the Great War." said Germany. "It is part of the reason Hitler rose to power at all."

"So, you blame your actions on us?" snarled France leaning forward. "What if we were to destroy Germany so it would never rise again, we could put the world out of its misery non?" Germany paled and glanced at Alfred who was careful to keep any emotion from his face.

Arthur laid a hand on Francis' shoulder and the French man sat back breathing heavily.

"It is ironic that you ask for mercy, yet you showed little." said Russia drumming his fingers on the table. "And I'm not talking about the battlefield." Alfred glanced at Russia's impassive face, violet eyes flicked to his own; he felt a sinking feeling, he could guess where this was going. But, he couldn't deny that he was curious as to what Germany would say.

"I beg your pardon." said Germany his voice tight.

"We've seen the camps." Alfred said, watching Germany's reaction. The man looked confused and wary, as if he had an idea of what they were talking about but didn't want it to be confirmed.

"Those were prisoner of war camps and work camps." He replied, his tone seemed forced calm.

"You're saying places like Drancy and Auschwitz, were work camps?" said Alfred. "We saw gas chambers and ovens. Those were death camps! How could you pretend to know nothing about them?"

"I only knew of plans to relocate enemies of the state to work camps." said Ludwig his fists clenched.

"How could you not know of the thousands of people who were being put to death every day?" he rose to his feet, slamming his hands on the table. "Most of them were your own!"

"America" said England.

"How can you tell us that you knew nothing?" repeated America tightly.

"I was not in charge of the Final Solution!" said Germany. "That was Hitler's plan. I only expected that they would become prisoners."

Alfred stared at him a moment then walked around the table. He opened the door, "Lowe, Freedman." he called into the hallway. Then he turned back toward Ludwig, "Get up. I want to show you something."

"America." said England warningly. Alfred ignored him.

Ludwig rose as the American soldiers entered. They walked to a hospital operated by the Red Cross, trailed by the other nations, except Russia who said that he'd "Seen enough."

Alfred led Ludwig to a room and opened the door cautiously, sticking just his head inside. Gilbert had been reading, "Ja?" he asked.

"I've brought someone to see you, if you don't mind."

"Who is it?"

"Germany, Ludwig."

Gilbert stared at him a moment, then sighed his hand rubbing the bandage over what Alfred knew was his number tattoo, "Very well."

America turned back to Ludwig who looked at him in confusion. "He'll see you." Then he opened the door and stood aside.

Ludwig hesitated scrutinizing the American, but his face was unreadable. He walked passed him and froze.

"West", said Gilbert with a small, forced smile. "I was wondering when you'd come and visit me."

* * *

Authoress Note:  
More nations in this chapter. More drama next chapter. Oh, and I forgot to ask in the other chapters please tell me if the German is correct. I got it from google.  
Please review and tell me what you think, this silence is kind of unnerving.

The Treaty of Versailles was the treaty that ended the first world war. It held many stipulations that basically held Germany completely responsible for WWI. Needless to say the Germans thought it incredibly unfair, to say the least

Drancy was a major death camp in France. Auschwitz is, of course, the infamous death camp in what is today western Poland.

The Final Solution was the plan for systematic genocide of the European Jewish population.


	4. Chapter 4: Confrontation

I in no way claim any rights or profits to Axis Powers Hetalia. Those belong to Hidekaz Himaruya, and justly so.

Warning: Note the Rating: Descriptions of abuse and emaciation, trauma, death camps, and nuclear bomb injuries.

* * *

He could only stare. His brother was sitting in a hospital bed. His hands, head, left arm, and both legs were bandaged. But what struck Ludwig so hard was how thin his brother was; his clothes hung loose off bony shoulders, his ruby eyes seemed bigger in his emaciated face.

"O-Ost? What –" he licked his lips. "Ost, what happened?"

Gilbert's smile disappeared and he looked out the window. "Hitler happened, West."

Ludwig ran his hand through his hair. "Hitler was our boss, he was helping us."

Gilbert's eyes flicked to his before looking back out the window. Ludwig saw his fists clench.

"Not all of Germany West. There were a lot of our people in those camps, not just Poles or Dutch, a lot of Germans who just weren't Aryan enough for that Austrian Scheißkerl."

"But you're German, you're Prussia." He ran his hands through his hair again. He knew he was saying stupid things, obvious things, but for some reason he couldn't think about what he was trying to say. He could only think about Gilbert's too large eyes, his hollow cheekbones. He saw Gilbert's fists clench tighter.

"Hitler sent me there because my country no longer exists; when 'Old Prussia married New Germany' he didn't need me anymore." His voice dropped to a whisper "No one needed me anymore." Gilbert's red eyes met his daring him to contradict the statement. Ludwig flinched and Gilbert looked away again, his hands relaxed a little. "You know he always thought I looked like a freak of nature."

That too was true. Ludwig stared at his brother running a hand through his hair again. "What, what did they do to you?" he whispered.

He watched as Gilbert's eyes went distant, his face went rigid, both his hands clenched. "They killed me, over, and over, and over again." He whispered more to himself than Ludwig. Ludwig glanced down and saw blood staining the bandages. "Bruder!" he said stepping forward.

Gilbert jumped and tried to scoot away from him, fear and anger in his eyes. "Get out!" he snarled. "Get out!"

Ludwig nearly ran out of that room, Gilbert's screams reverberating in his ears. He stared at the opposite wall as nurses rushed passed to calm his brother. What had he done?

"Sir?" he straightened and blinked. One of the American soldiers called to him again, "Sir."

"J-ja?"

Freedman straightened "Commander Jones told us to escort you back to your quarters when you were done in there."

He nodded looking around. All the other nations had disappeared. They walked down the hallway towards a set of stairs at the end. As they neared it he remembered Japan was here as well, in a room around the corner. He wondered if he would be able to visit him, but probably not. His fists clenched as he remembered when that blundering fool America had managed to harness the power of the atomic bomb before Germany and proved that he was perhaps not the complete blundering fool Germany had dismissed him as.

They had reached the corner, he paused and looked down the hall, wondering which door was Japan's. Then one door opened and a doctor came out, followed by America himself. Their backs were to Germany and the Americans. He could just make out what they said.

"Has he been eating?" said America.

"Yes, but very little sir. He can only keep the simplest of foods down."

"How are the burns?"

"Still extremely painful as far as we can tell. We keep him on morphine and that seems to help. He sleeps a lot."

America nodded, worry and concern in every line of his face as he looked back at the room they had just exited. Then a small smile touched his features and he clapped the other man on the shoulder. "Thanks Doc, I'll leave him in your capable hands."

"Thank you Commander Jones." The doctor returned to the room closing the door behind him. America stood staring at the door to what could only be Japan's room, all traces of his smile gone. Then he slid his hands into the pockets of his bomber jacket turned and walked away, down the stairs at the opposite end of the hall.

Freedman cleared his throat. Ludwig glared at him before leading the way downstairs.

* * *

Authoress Note:  
War is sad.  
Please let me know if the German is incorrect. Thanks to those who have faved and alerted for this story. It makes me happy that people find this interesting.  
Please review!

The Jews are the most well know victims of the concentration camps. Others include Russians, Poles, Gypsys, Homosexuals, people with physical or mental disabilities, Prisoners of War, and political opponents of the Nazi Party.

There was a union between "Old Prussia and New Germany" to pacify supporters of the Prussian monarchy. I don't remember when it happened. If my historical notes are incorrect please let me know.

1 German: "East"

2 German: "Motherfucker"


	5. Chapter 5: Meditation

I in no way claim any rights or profits to Axis Powers Hetalia. Those belong to Hidekaz Himaruya, and justly so.

Warning: Note the Rating: Contains Nazi Rhetoric.

* * *

Ludwig sat at his window watching the sky darken over his broken Nuremberg. So America was checking in on Japan, how interesting. Perhaps he had a guilty conscious, perhaps he felt sorry for him. Unbidden, years of Nazi rhetoric rose to his mind, _then he is a weak fool, the weak deserve no compassion. They deserve-_ what Ost received? He sat up and cradled his head in his hands as the vision of his emaciated, raving brother rose to his eyes.

"Mein Gott, what have I done?" he whispered.

* * *

_Hitler sat down and steepled his fingers together. "So glad you could come, German Reich." He smiled._

"_Anything to serve Mein __Führer__." He nodded in return._

"_Reich, I am concerned about your brother, the former Kingdom of Prussia. He seems, discontented, I don't think he feels as impassioned about __Die Volk_ _as you or me."_

"_My brother has been unconnected for a long time Mein __Führer.__ He loves the People, and Germany, I know this. I'm sure he just needs something to do, something to focus his attention."_

_His boss thumped his fist on the desk. "Precisely what I had in mind, German Reich." he said and Ludwig could see a hint of excitement in his eyes. "In fact I think I know what would be just perfect for him."He smiled "An assignment in the east."_

"_The Eastern front, Mein __Führer__?"_

"_Yes, you could say that. Your brother has a great deal of experience, I'm sure his endurance and stamina, would serve him well."_

"_Will he be stationed on the Eastern front for the remainder of the war?"_

"_No, not exactly. No, his work may bring him West from time to time; it will depend where he's needed." Hitler stared off into space for a moment. Then he leaned forward again, the fervor in his eyes growing. "What do you think, Reich, will he like his new assignment?"_

"_Ja, Mein __Führer. He would do anything to help the Reich."

* * *

_

His hands balled into fists against his eyes. How could he have been so stupid, so determinately blind? He began to shake and something tapped against his arm. He sat up and saw it was his Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross. When he had surrendered to the allies he had been forced to destroy and surrender all Nazi insignias, patches, and paraphernalia. At the meeting with the Allies he wore his regular uniform, but with no medals or signs of rank on it. When he had been collecting all symbols of his former fascist regime one of the soldiers had indicated that he remove his cross as well. Something he had resolutely refused to do. In the end he'd been allowed to keep it because it had no fascist symbols on it. Now he held it in his hand tracing its surface with his thumb. Gilbert had given it to him when he had first become a nation in 1871. He had worn this cross through war and peace, defeat and victory, famine and prosperity. It was as much a part of Germany as he was.

He stood and walked through the dark halls to his brother's room. When Germany had surrendered all of his officials had been placed in prison cells, but he had merely been placed under house arrest, under the supervision of armed allied guards. He opened Gilbert's door. His room hadn't been touched since he'd left years ago. Upon leaving he had ordered Ludwig to stay out of his room and under no condition clean it. Ludwig would have eventually disregarded those orders but had become distracted with everything else that was going on. Now inside he wished he had spared just an hour or two to keep dust from collecting.

He walked over to the bed, looking around. Gilbert had not been wearing his cross in the hospital; so either someone had taken it, which all things considered was highly unlikely or Gilbert had taken it off before he had left. Something glinted on the bedside table. There it was, lying next to a small portrait of Frederick II or Old Fritz, as Gilbert had called him. He picked it up and wiped off the dust with his handkerchief. Even through its age and neglect it still shone brightly. _"How could you not know about the thousands of people being put to death everyday? Most of them were your own!"_ Numbly, he sank on to the bed, ignoring the cloud of dust. His hand tightened around Gilbert's cross and he leaned his forehead against the fist. Gilbert, that's why he'd never known. Tears gathered in his eyes and he closed them, but the tears fell anyway.

"I'm sorry Ost." he whispered, "I'm so, so, sorry."

* * *

Authoress Notes:  
Thanks to those who faved, alerted and reviewed. Please review and tell me what you think...  
Who thinks the titles of the chapters are lame and should be changed? Oh, and I've been asked to add a chapter (this is the second to last one) that involves some reconciliation between Gilbert and Ludwig, would you guys like to see that too?

Most of the major Camps were located in Eastern (at the time) Germany. In my head, Gilbert was there for a while before being moved to a more Western camp that was later liberated the Americans. Thus chapter 1.

Frederick II is considered one of the greatest rulers of Prussia.

I hope the German is correct.

1 German: My God

2 German: My Leader

3 German: The People

4 German: East


	6. Chapter 6: Speculation

I in no way claim any rights or profits to Axis Powers Hetalia. Those belong to Hidekaz Himaruya, and justly so.

Warning: Note the Rating: Mentions of anti-Semitism and Post WWII resentment.

* * *

"Oi! Alfred." An efficient British hand snapped its fingers in front of his nose. He blinked and looked up into Arthur's face.

"What?"

"Are you planning on drinking that pint or drowning in it?"

He frowned and took a sip of the beer. "Don't be such an ass."

"Never, I'm a gentleman." When Alfred didn't respond Arthur leaned forward "What are you looking so morose about?"

"Nothing, where's Matthew?"

"Hm?" Arthur finished the last of his beer and ordered another from a pretty barmaid who smiled at him. "Oh, he went back up to Amsterdam for a few days, wanted to check on Holland."

"Oh."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Alright, stop sulking and tell me what's wrong."

"You can't tell me what to do." Arthur glared at him. "Fine. I went to visit Japan today."

"Ah. How was he?"

"The same. He, still won't talk to me."

"Well I'd say that's hardly surprising-" Alfred glared at him and Arthur glared back. "Considering he's suffering from major burns on top of his other injuries, so he's been drugged out his mind by morphine to deal with it, and he sleeps most of the time. What are you expecting, a nice chat over tea?"

"No 'cause I don't drink tea."

"You know what I mean, git."

Alfred sighed and stared into his beer again.

"Look, why don't you just go to bed. We've got to meet with Germany again tomorrow and discuss what we're going to do about him."

"I think he's got a point you know."

"You better not let Francis hear you saying that."

"I don't mean completely. I mean, maybe if Germany hadn't been so hard up to pay the debt for World War I then maybe things wouldn't have gotten so bad."

"There's a lot of 'ifs" and 'maybes' in that."

"It's just a thought."

Arthur propped his chin on his hand. "Well I agree, I think you do have a point. Things could have been done differently, but what's passed is passed. But, who knows, by doing things differently we may have just delayed the inevitable?" He glanced at Alfred who was frowning. "We'd have a hard time convincing the others anyway, France and Russia will want blood, and I can't say I blame them."

"Neither do I. We've all suffered a lot because of him and his bat-shit crazy boss, a lot." He finished with a growl. He ran his hand through his hair "It's just complicated."

"It always is." Arthur glanced over at him again. "Get out of here, go to bed, sleep on it."

Alfred swigged his beer and grinned a little, "Is that an order daddy-o?"

"No you wanker, just a friendly suggestion."

Alfred dug out some money, "What are you gonna to do?"

Arthur glanced back at the barmaid who smiled at him again, "I'll stick around here a little while. I think that frau wants to fall in love with me tonight."

Alfred's grin widened as he downed the last of his beer. He rose and clapped Arthur on the shoulder. "Good night then. Don't do anything Francis wouldn't do."

"Ugh, don't bring up that disgusting frog. Good night git."

* * *

Alfred walked down the darkening streets of Nuremberg. At first for the purpose of getting back to his quarters, then his step became slower as his thoughts from the bar returned and he gazed up at the sky. It was starry and the streets were quiet. The contrast was interesting, in war things were straightforward and clean-cut, in peace there were suddenly so many other factors to consider, people became people again.

As he neared the square he remembered back to one of the news reels he'd seen back in 1935 of a Nazi rally just before the Reichstag had passed their anti-Semitic laws. The square was so empty and quiet now. He stopped in front of the Reichstag and stared at it. The past and the present ebbing and flowing within his mind.

"Very quiet tonight, da?"

Alfred tensed and closed his eyes, how could such a big guy be so damn quiet? He took a moment to collect himself then said, "Yeah, reminds me of a ghost town."

Russia raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Alfred turned toward him. His ally looked the same as always: scarf, coat, pipe. But something seemed off; he was twirling the pipe between his fingers as if he wasn't sure what to do with it.

"What brings you here?"

"I could not sleep. I ho-thought a walk would, clear my head. You?"

"I haven't tried yet. I was just thinking, about the meeting today."

"Ah, anything in particular?"

Alfred frowned, what was that supposed to mean? "Just Germany and what we're going to do about him, and his brother."

"Ah, yes, you took Germany to see him. I heard that did not go well."

Alfred raised an eyebrow, but, why did that not surprise him? "Yeah, perhaps it was too hasty. I don't think Gi-Prussia was ready to see him."

"That may be true. But the world must know what Germany has done, only then will they be able to adequately judge him. Besides", his voice grew softer as if he were talking more to himself than Alfred, "one must confront one's past if they are ever to rise above it."

Alfred stared at him; Russia's eyes were distant and haunted. "Yes", he said softly, "I suppose that true."

Russia's eyes flicked to his and held them, then he said conversationally, "And so we enter a new era together, America."

Alfred plumbed the depths of Russia's eyes and thought about last twenty-five years: the depression, the power struggles, the war, the genocide, the bomb. "Yes", he said "One thing's for sure, things'll never be the same from here on out."

He blinked and looked away, into the dark, bombed out streets.

He turned to go, "Good night, Ivan." he murmured. He stopped and glanced at Russia who seemed just as surprised at the use of his human name as Alfred. Alfred shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'll see ya tomorrow." He walked passed Russia and almost didn't hear his parting words.

"Until Tomorrow. Спокойной ночи, Alfred."

* * *

Authoress Notes:  
Last chapter, unless you guys want to see a chapter with some German reconciliation (if so please review). Thank you to all who faved, alerted, and reviewed, it makes me really happy that people are interested in this story. Please leave a review and tell me what you thought about the story.

I think the beginning of this is the only part of the story with some humor, Arthur being a player. Haha.

Nuremburg became an important city to the Nazi Party and they held annual rallies there. The Reichstag is where the laws taking away the German citizenship of Jews were passed. After the war the tribunals of the Nazi war criminals also took place in the Reichstag in Nuremberg.

Why was Russia having a hard time sleeping? You tell me. I have an idea but I'm curious as to what you think.

Heh, I couldn't finish this without a Russia cameo. This is a bit of my head canon of like their last words as Ivan and Alfred before they began to completely descend into the Cold War where they became just the USSR and America.

1 German: Girl, woman, lady

2 Russian: Good night


	7. Chapter 7: Reconciliation

I in no way claim any rights or profits to Axis Powers Hetalia. Those belong to Hidekaz Himaruya, and justly so.

Warnings: Note the Rating: Cussing and Post-WWII Anti-German sentiment  
and long Notes at the bottom.

* * *

Gilbert walked slowly back and forth. His bodily wounds had healed quickly over the past few months, but he still walked with a slight limp and tired easily. The late July heat was no help either. However, none of that diminished his restlessness, in fact it only added to it. He wanted to be out of this hospital room and doing things. The lack of information was frustrating as well. The Allies that debated the fate of Germany, of him and West, had barely visited him since that day America had brought West to see him.

West, it had been two weeks since he had seen him. Two weeks since their… reunion, no re-acquaintance was probably more accurate. Things had gotten out of hand then. He had lost control, said things without thinking. But perhaps it had been too early to face him again. Face the man who had disowned him, the boy he had left at the mercy of a mad man. He stared out the window for a long time.

"Mr. Beilschmidt," a nurse came in carrying a tray and set it on a table near his bed, dinner time. "This parcel also came for you." She indicated the brown envelope on the tray.

"Thank you." he said and sat down to eat. She nodded and left. He restrained himself as he ate the soup and bread, carefully chewing and swallowing each bite before taking another, breaking old habits was hard. At least they did not insist on watching him eat, to make sure he ate slowly anymore.

When he had finished he pushed the tray aside and picked up the envelope. It was common brown butcher paper, tied with some twine. It felt heavy and bulged at the bottom, he tilted the envelope and the bulge slid from one corner to the other. The only name and address on it was his own. He ripped it open and turned it upside down. A Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross fell into his palm, the chain dangling from his fingers. The envelope slid from his grip as he raised the Cross to his eyes. It was his. He turned it around and put it around his neck, fumbling with the clasp a little. When it was clasped he centered the Cross on the chain, tracing the front of it as he did so, reveling in its familiar weight.

He looked down at the envelope in his lap. He recognized that handwriting, he was the only person who would have found it and sent it to him in any case. He reached into the envelope and pulled out a slip of paper.

_Ost,_

_I found this on the day of our meeting. I wanted to return it in person but—in the end felt it would be more convenient this way. _

Reading that Gilbert smiled humorlessly. If he read between the lines correctly, West had found his cross but been too intimidated to return it in person.

_The Allies are going to reach a decision regarding the state of our country soon. I think both you and I will be summoned to hear their decision. That's why I sent the Cross. It belongs with you._

_G –West_

Gilbert set the note on the bed and stared at the ceiling. From what he had heard on the radios and from the hospital staff, the Allied leaders had been very busy trying to decide what to do about Germany. Which explained why he had had almost no visitors over the last two weeks, America, Britain, and Russia, must have been attending both the conferences in Potsdam and the war tribunals here in Nuremburg.

His finger traced down the left side of his neck and up the right side, following the contour of the chain. He wondered if he could attend some of those, he would like to see some old enemies get what they deserve. Like Kaltenbrunner or perhaps Hoess, he smiled bitterly.

Then his thoughts went back to West, had he been attending the tribunals? Gilbert rose and began to pace again, from the door to the window and back. There were several ways that the Allies could deal with Germany. From what he had seen of America and what he had said; the Allies were torn between what to do. America wanted to go a different route than in the past, but he made no promises. Gilbert knew he would have a time of convincing Britain and Russia. They, Russia especially, would want to cut Germany up into little pieces and eat it. Again he couldn't help but worry about West; whatever the Allies decided to do would hurt him more than it hurt Gilbert.

The day waned and with it the sunlight. Finally exhausted Gilbert crawled into bed his mind still churning over his and West's fate. But as sleep began to creep over him his mind turned from political relationships to personal ones. What, if anything, did he owe West after what he had allowed Hitler to do? When he fell asleep he still had no answer.

* * *

That morning Ludwig had unexpected visitors for breakfast; Britain, flanked by two of his soldiers.

"Ah, Good Morning Germany."

Germany nodded in reply and offered him a chair and some of the rationed tea he had been given. Britain accepted. When they both had a steaming mug before them Britain said, "We are meeting today to announce the decision reached at Potsdam. I'm here to escort you a meeting room in the Reichstag at 10:00."

Ludwig looked at the clock, he had an hour. "Will Prussia be present?" he asked.

"Yes, America and Russia are escorting him there."

Ludwig finished what was left his breakfast and tea quickly. The sooner he knew what they were going to do to him the better. He also could not deny that he desperately wanted to see Ost again. After their last failed meeting he could not stop thinking about him. Being confined to house arrest had given much time to think, too much time in fact. There were so many things he wanted to tell him, he wanted to explain, to ask questions, to apologize. It was as if he bore a wound that had become infected and painfully swollen, and the only way to relieve pressure would be to lance it. He needed to speak to Gilbert, but he was afraid. Every time he fell asleep he dreamed of him in that hospital bed, dreamed of his screams and the fear and anger in his eyes. Cowardly and shameful though it was, Ludwig was afraid of Gilbert looking at him like that again.

Not that he would admit that to Britain. He could barely admit it to himself. But he knew he would go and face before his brother again, he knew it as sure as he breathed. He took the dirty dishes, put them in the sink and rinsed them off. Britain didn't stir until Germany dried his hands.

"Let's go."

The car ride was quiet. Britain ignored him and Germany was left to his thoughts. When he entered that room today he wanted to enter with a shred of dignity, despite all that had happened.

The car stopped and he followed Britain into the Reichstag. They were the first to arrive in the meeting room. Britain motioned to a pair of chairs on one side of a table before taking a seat at the table, facing Ludwig. Britain poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table and began reading a letter or report from the briefcase he had brought with him.

Twenty minutes later the door opened and Ludwig stiffened, his gaze shifting immediately to the door. Gilbert walked in. He looked much better than last time. He wore no bandages and had gained some weight; he also wore some new clothes. He almost looked like his old self, from before the war, almost. His gaze was empty when he looked at Ludwig, as if he was an uninteresting stranger, but after an initial sweep of the room his eyes never left Ludwig. He was followed by Russia, who smiled at Germany in a way that was more of a leer, and America, who just nodded.

"What took so long?" said Britain, frowning. "You're ten minutes late."

Russia smirked. "The suit of clothes was too large. America had to get new ones."

America shrugged but Ludwig noticed a flicker of annoyance. "Shall we start?"

"Proceed America." said Russia leaning back in his chair, a small satisfied smile on is face, his arms crossed.

America took a document from a folder and began to read. With every stipulation Germany's heart sank a little. He should have expected it; the loss of territories gained in the war, the restriction of his industries, the war reparations, but it was one thing to speculate about what the restrictions would be and another to hear them stated.

"All the aforementioned conditions reached during the Conferences at Potsdam shall be supervised by division and continued occupation of Germany by the forces of United States of America, United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, French Provisional Government4, and Union of Soviet Socialist Republics; toward the aim of demilitarization, denazification, democratization, decentralization, and decartelization of Germany."

America set the paper down. There was silence for a moment as Germany absorbed the impact of all that had been said. Then Russia stood and walked around the table.

"We shall take what is ours and leave now then?" he asked.

America and Britain began to protest but Ludwig wasn't listening as he looked sharply at Russia, keeping his face impassive as the numbness of his shock was replaced with horror. He glanced at his brother who was watching Russia with barely disguised hatred.

Russia's smile grew as his gaze settled on Germany. Ludwig knew Russia wanted to take him, he met Russia's eyes evenly; he would show no fear, it was his burden to bear. He stood.

Russia began to walk towards him. He was only an arm's length away when Gilbert stood, so fast he knocked his chair back, and placed himself between Ludwig and Russia.

"I will go."

The room fell silent. Ludwig knew he should protest but his brain could not find the words. Russia and Gilbert stared at one another until Russia looked away and shrugged. His smug smile had vanished.

"Very well, it does not matter to me." He walked toward the door, "Let us go then." Gilbert had taken one step toward the door when Ludwig found the words. He reached out and grabbed Gilbert by the elbow.

"Warten Sie, Ost! Man kann nicht mit ihm gehen."

"Give them a moment Russia." snapped Britain. Russia looked from Gilbert to Ludwig to America, shrugged and leaned against the wall next to the door, his arms crossed and the fingers of one hand drumming against his forearm.

America jerked his thumb at the far end of the room, furthest from the table. Gilbert glanced at Germany's hand on his arm, and pulled his elbow free. He led Ludwig away from the others before speaking.

"For nearly three fucking years I have been following the orders of others." He glanced at Russia, "And when I leave with him I may never get to make my own decisions again. But I have made this one. I am going with him West. Not you."

"You're not well. I can't let you."

"You can and will. I am Ost and you are West. It is my duty to protect you from the dangers of the East." Gilbert's voice was calm and even, a trademark of years of military training.

None of this made sense "After what has happened you own me nothing, why?"

Gilbert hesitated and frowned slightly. "Wir sind Brüder" he said slowly and when he looked up Ludwig thought he saw a hint of his brother's old gleam in his eyes. Ludwig felt a small flicker of warmth.

"I want to tell you something." He said, his voice coming out in a rush. "Just before I was forced to surrender I went to Hitler for orders. He told me to fight down to the last man; he said it was time to fight for everything I ever held dear. When I went returned to his bunker the next day, April 30, to tell him the Red Army was only two blocks way I came just in time to hear the shot. He shot himself…" Germany's hands clenched into fists and he looked down.

"And abandoned you to die." Gilbert finished softly. There was something of sympathy in his eyes. They stood in silence for a moment, then Russia called from the door. Gilbert scowled then turned back the Ludwig. He reached up and clasped Germany's shoulder, Ludwig looked up at him.

"You are more than that man could ever be. As we have endured, so shall we endure. Never forget that West."

Ludwig hesitated and then clasped Gilbert's shoulder in return. "Ja, mein bruder."

* * *

Authoress Notes:  
Here's the final chapter with the reconciliation between the brothers that was requested. I hope you all enjoy. I enjoyed writing this story but I fear that after such a long break between Chapter 6 and Chapter 7 that Chapter 7 isn't as well written as it could be. What do you think?  
Thank you for reading and thank you to all who reviewed, alerted, and faved over the course of the story. It really means a lot to me, especially if you left me one last review.

The Potsdam conference was a meeting between the "Big Three" (UK, USA, and USSR) to decide the conditions of Germany after it's unconditional surrender on May 8th.

Kaltenbrunner was General of the Waffen-SS and eventually Commander-in-Chief of the German forces in Southern Europe. He was found guilty and hanged for crimes against humanity, war crimes, and crimes against peace.

Hoess was a lieutenant-colonel in the SS and the first Commandant of Auschwitz. He was not tried at the Nuremberg trials but in Warsaw, Poland where he was found guilty and hanged for crimes against humanity.

Loss of Territories, These are just a few of the agreements the Allies reached regarding Germany during the Potsdam Conference.

France's Government after 1944 until the establishment of the Fifth French Republic in the 1950s. Their portion of Germany was enforced by Free French Forces.

FYI, the passage that Alfred is reading to Germany and Prussia is not an exact quote from any document from the Potsdam Conference but basically a summary of what their goals were by occupying Germany.

Translations:  
German: Wait East! You can't go with him.

German: We are brothers.

German: Yes, my brother.

To The Anonymous Reviewers:  
**Anon whose too lazy to log in**: Thanks for the feedback. You're pretty close. I was imagining Russia to be thinking about the losses he suffered in the Battles of Stalingrad and Leningrad.

**Asianeye**: Um, I'm not exactly sure how to answer this concisely. Was this a rhetorical question or do you really want to hear my theory? In any case, I hope that this story didn't offend you.


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